Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

29. The Boy Who Tries To Find The Light

It took him three weeks to find them.  

They were in a dusty town in Guatemala, make a bit stop at a corner store before hitting the road again.   

Ryland ripped open the door of the corner store and saw that familiar spill of silver hair down a brown leather jacket.  She stood by the frozen food section, standing in front of the milk.  

He ran over and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around.

"Delilah!" he said. Her face turned toward his and he clutched both of her arms. "I'm tired of running! I'm fucking sick of it!"

Her frown deepened and tried shoving him off. "Get off!"

He let go of her and almost grabbed his own head. "It's driving me off the wall and I'm literally going to lose myself, but that shouldn't really matter because I've already lost myself! Ever since you lined it out for me, I've been lost for so long—with my career and how it buried me deeper into the dark."

"You should just stay lost, Ryland!" she exclaimed.

But he kept talking, not letting his wounds split open any bigger with her words. "And you put your world on hold for me—just to help me get through it all. You saw a bloody, burnt and tired angel like me as somebody."

"This doesn't work between us," she persisted. "You and I—don't mix. No one can see us together—not the universe, not fate, not Lucan and not me!"

"No one could've seen this fucking coming! I didn't see it coming and you sure as hell didn't see this coming but it is what it is—you and I!" he screamed.  He put a lot of thought into his words, repeating them countless times on the ride here.  "I know you dismissed me weeks ago, but I'm still falling for you and it's scary and crazy and I'm afraid to cry but I want to try."

Her eyes went glossy and he advanced a step but she shook her head, stepping back.

"I want to love you, Delilah! Let me just try! Don't cry, okay? Don't cry because I don't know what I'll do to myself."

She kept shaking her head, not daring to look him in the eye.

"Delilah—fucking look at me! Don't you dare cry! I may have let you down but I promise, it kills me more than it kills you. Delilah—please."

She sniffed and glanced up. The fury burning in her eyes was a knife to his chest and it twisted at her sickening words. "You let me down when I needed you the most, Ryland. Out of all the times you were never by my side—the time I needed you, you didn't even make the effort to be there." She took another step forward, almost banging their foreheads together because he refused to step back. "And you know what the worst part of it all was? Your friends were by my side. They were there when I needed you the most."

It made her angry to see he wasn't even stepping back so she shoved him with her two hands. "Why the fuck do you have to be such a dick! You know—I'm holding back these tears for me. Not for you."

"I want to try, Delilah! Let me!"

"Fucking get out," she screamed. "Get out!"

He glared so hard at her she was afraid he'd kill Delilah right there. But instead, he clenched his fists and swung a hand, hitting the rack of chips. Many tumbled to the ground but he didn't care. "Fuck! I'm trying to—"

"Stop trying and just get out!" She swung her hand out, the wind opening the door for Ryland and slightly cut past his cheek on their way.  "It's time I let you go too."

His glare sharpened.  One more for the road then.  He grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her into a short, hard kiss before releasing his hand and walked away.

"You're sick!" she yelled and spat on the floor.  

"Fuck you!"  He headed back to his car. He climbed into the driver's seat and drove off in seconds.

Delilah watched his car disappeared off into the streets and turned back to the shelves, suddenly feeling much colder in the frozen section. She felt a presence close by and glimpsed over the other aisle, but nothing moved.

+++

Ryland began grumbling in his car, slapping his hand against the steering wheel as he drove. He slammed so hard on the pedal, going way over the speed limit and he started screaming even louder.

Then without thinking, made a sharp right turn on a non-turning lane, getting honks from drivers.

He sped into the empty parking lot, burning his tires off as it could smell the smoke collecting aside.

He slammed his foot on the breaks and dropped his head on the wheel, whimpering as his chest hurt.

His nose stung and his eyes burned—realizing he had been crying ever since he got into the car.  

Two road signs stared back at him as he glanced up. 

One pointed home. 

The other pointed to Delilah's final destination.  

Funny because to Ryland, they were both pointing in the same direction.  

Every lost boy needed a flashlight to find their way home.  And his flashlight was driving away.  His home was where his heart was.   

He pressed down on the gas pedal and moved.